


Vengeance

by klassmartin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, aint no ship like our baseball bat wielding ship, basically just a pile of fluff, prompt, raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimised by stydia feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:41:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klassmartin/pseuds/klassmartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia is having a terrible day, made worse by her very noisy neighbour. Lydia decides to take matters into her hands, and is surprised to discover she's not the only one with vengeance on the brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> I came across this prompt on one of those tumblr blogs that posts thousands of amazing prompts and couldn't resist the baseball bat thing. Because why do what you're supposed to do when you can write stydia. 
> 
> “It’s 3 in the morning and I have to get up early tomorrow but a couple of assholes are blaring music on their car parked on my street, so I got fed up and got out to smash their car with a baseball bat and the only reason you stopped me is because you had the same idea” AU
> 
> Unbeta'd with advance apologies.

“...and despite the fact I told him _very specifically_ to only use 1.2 millilitres every half hour, he apparently decides that giving 2.4 millilitres so he can have a longer lunch is perfectly acceptable, which, as anyone worth their salt knows, is _completely_ idiotic because the whole damn thing exploded and not only did we have to sit in quarantine for fourteen hours, but it’s also put our research back three weeks!” Lydia finally allows herself to take a breath, anger burning hot in her chest as she recounts the events of the past 24 hours to her best friend.

Allison, who has done her best so far to keep up with the conversation (you’d think having Lydia as a permanent fixture in her life since the age of sixteen would have taught her a thing or two about such matters by now, but no, it mostly just goes over her head), grunts unhappily. “Unbelievable. Like, did he not pay any attention during high school? Completely absurd. What a complete and utter -”

Lydia chuckles into her phone, pausing momentarily in her pacing back and forth across the heated kitchen tiles. “Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”

“Not in the slightest. Did he get fired? I love it when they get fired.”

The frustration towards her inept lab assistant resumes in its scorch of her insides. “Well, that’s the thing see, because of course the dunce is the son of someone on the board so -”A deep throbbing beat shakes the windows of her first floor apartment, and a guttural growl escapes her mouth. “You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me.”

Heels long since kicked off at the door, Lydia skids across the hardwood floor to the window looking out onto the street. Sure enough, just outside her window, that goddamn green convertible has pulled up, heavy dubstep thumping out from the speakers installed into the back. Her neighbour from across the hall is pressed against the passenger door, an ankle twisted around the calf of her drug dealing boyfriend (this isn’t an assumption; he had offered to sell her a gram of coke for 10% off the ‘usual’ price) as he kisses her, his grubby hands sliding up her thighs. It makes Lydia feel a little sick and a lot like a murder charge should be excused if the victim happens to be a complete twat.

“Lydia? Lydia! What’s happened?” Allison’s voice brings her back to reality and away from the vengeful fantasies that fill her with a sick kind of glee.

“If I go down for murder, you’ll break me out of prison, right?”

“Ah,” Allison cottons on. “Number 4.”

“Doesn’t he realise some people are _trying to sleep_!” Lydia shouts the last part, banging on the window to try and get their attention. The bass of the music apparently drowns her out.

“But you’re not trying to sleep.”

“I said some people, not me personally.” Lydia storms away from the window and towards the front door, slipping her feet into the first pair of shoes she finds. “I have to go, Ally. Call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. And don’t forget to-”

But Lydia has already hung up and has her eye pressed to the peephole of her door. This has been going on too long now. No longer can she take the mindless, tasteless music (that is clearly downloaded illegally, based on the horrific quality of the sound). Her nails, painted a blood red, tap out a quick rhythm against the door handle. She is so tired of their shit, can’t stand to listen to their music and fights and sex noises any longer; she won’t let them drag down the reputation of the very building she had chosen just last year because of how well kept and friendly and safe it seemed, until they allowed that _bitch_ -

A high pitched giggle, and Lydia see’s the brunette stumble towards her door, fiddling with her keys. The man, towering and muscly with a dark tattoo climbing out of the neckline of his tight v-neck shirt, presses her against the door in another searing kiss.

This is it.

Time for Lydia to take matters into her own hands.

Her fingers wrap around her father’s old baseball bat, the rough sensation of the worn fabric around the handle spurring her forward. She quietly opens her door, tiptoeing towards the staircase. The couple either don’t notice her, or don’t care. _She_ doesn’t care; this plays in her favour.

Lydia rushes the last few steps, throwing the main door of her building and immediately catching sight of the offending vehicle. He has, rather obnoxiously, left the engine running, so the music continues to echo around the street, which only serves to stoke the flames of her fury. If she hadn’t already been in a terrible mood when she got home an hour earlier, she’s pretty sure she’d still be embarking on this mildly illegal form of bringing justice.

(The Wonder Woman costume from last Halloween that is hanging in her closet springs to mind, and she actually kinda likes the idea of being a superhero if it means she gets to be rewarded for this.)

Twirling the bat absently around her fingers, she calculates where the best place is to hit to cause maximum damage. She slowly walks the length of the car, a smirk pulling at her mouth as she makes her decision and curls her fingers around the handle, ready to strike.

Except the hairs on the back of her neck are now standing on end as she hears a slam behind her. Frozen to the spot, Lydia tries to remember how to breathe. _Oh god, he’s here, he’s going to kill me, how did I think this was in any way a good idea -_

A shadow cast by the street light approaches the car, definitely male and definitely holding some kind of weapon.

He raises it, and she screams.

“Holy shit! What the fuck are you -” A very startled man around her age has dropped the bat in his hand, eyes wide in terror as he registers Lydia’s presence just to his right. “What the hell was that for?!”

Lydia takes a deep breath, preparing to scream again, holding her bat up to show she is fully prepared to defend herself. No way did she survive a fourteen hour quarantine just to go down like this. Lydia _will not_ die tonight.

“Jesus, _fuck_ would you - oh my god please do not scream again, I don’t think my eardrums can take that again.” It is only then that Lydia realises who is standing in front of her - she recalls him from a few mailbox pleasantries, number eleven she thinks. Something in the back of her mind says he’s a local cop, recently transferred from a small town she’s never heard of. His name is odd and should be memorable, but she can’t find the information.

The scream in her throat dies down as her blood boils with anger. “What the hell are you doing?!” she demands, cautiously leaving her defence stance so she can shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing?! You can’t just go around screaming like that whenever the hell you fancy -” He pauses to finally take her in, recognition registering. “Oh. Hey, number three, right?”

Her glare is cold and capable of killing a thousand men. “I prefer Lydia.”

“Lydia.” Dark eyes roam over her, landing quickly on the bat. “What is that for?”

The threat of arrest looms over her, so she panics and hides it quickly behind her back. “Uh, nothing.”

“Were you just about to vandalise this car?” His lips are pursed in a straight line, but something about the way his eyes shine doesn’t let her quite believe he’s being serious.

“Were you?” she bites back rather childishly, arms crossing over her chest, and a grin flickers across his face.

“Absolutely.”

“Oh.” There’s a moment of silence where she tries to figure out how this is what her evening has become. “Well, that’s… Illegal.”

“Yes, it is.” The man laughs, and steps towards her, holding his hand out. “Stiles. I’m off-duty, so I promise not to arrest you.”

“That’s nice of you.” She accepts the handshake for just a second, pulling quickly away so she can begin to shuffle towards the door of her building.

“Do you want to help?”

The question catches her off-guard, and she has to blink the confusion away to properly take in how Stiles has picked up his bat again, running a single finger along the side of the car. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve arrested this guy for disturbance of the peace twice now, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop… well, disturbing it.”

“Why don’t you just arrest him for drug dealing?” Unconsciously, she steps towards him taking in the slope of his shoulders and the angle of his jaw. He’s cute, in a boyish kind of a way, and she wonders how she hasn’t noticed it before.

“That’s classified.” His laugh vibrates in her bones. “Believe me, I’ve tried. But it’s part of a much bigger thing that… Yeah.”

The end of his sentence leaves her with a hundred more questions, but she chooses instead to do something else.

Lydia rolls back her shoulders, turns the 95 degrees she needs to so she is facing the car. Then, she raises her bat, and brings it straight down on the windshield.

The sound of the glass splintering makes her smile in satisfaction, and Stiles looks at her with something close to awe. “Holy shit. I should really arrest you for that.”

Lydia, riding the highs of vengeance, winks at him (and _wow_ , since when does Lydia wink at people). “I’m not opposed to handcuffs.”

Stiles chokes on the air in his lungs. “Where have you been all my life?”

Her mouth opens to retort, but instead Stiles sweeps forward towards the car, then towards her, and suddenly her back is pressed against a brick wall and Stiles is against her chest and she can’t really say she’s completely comfortable with this, but it’s not an _unwelcome_ development -

“What the fuck?!” The voice is deep and loud and full of a rage that she can’t even process.

Lydia almost gasps, but warm fingers touch her mouth, and Stiles is shaking his head. Comprehension dawns on her and she realises Stiles has hidden them around the corner of the building, and that a pair of car keys are digging into her chin. The night is deafeningly quiet without the thumping bass, and she hears another string of curses that make her tremble for half a second, but the man pressed against her just wheezes out a laugh.

She has no idea who this Stiles character is, but she thinks she’s already a little bit in love with him.

Doors slam and Lydia can’t help but whisper, “Did you-?”

“Yes.”

“You took his -”

“I did.”

“Are we going to die?”

“Probably.”

Lydia looks up into his eyes, black in the dim light, and she can tell he is genuinely enjoying this. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it.” She realises her nails are digging into the muscles of his lower arm, but instead of letting go in embarrassment, she just pushes it up to cup his elbow. “I can’t say I’m particularly disappointed.”

Impossibly so, his eyes darken, and his breath washes over her face as he whispers, “Seriously, where have you been my whole life.”

Her laugh is light and the smile is raises remains long after. “As much as I’m enjoying this, how do we escape?”

A hand she hadn’t even realised was on her hip now points at the fire exit for the building, not ten feet away. Her eyebrow raises in amused disapproval. “And we’re still standing here because…”

A shrug. “You said you were enjoying it. I’m not one to disappoint a lady.”

“Is that so?” Lydia slips away from him, her hips swaying as she walks. She can feel his eyes on her back and it gives her goosebumps. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

There’s a scuffle behind her and she turns to see him eagerly following her. “Is it too early to ask you to marry me?”

Lydia laughs and decides not to give an answer, this time around.

 


End file.
